


Ian Wasn't The Funny One

by OnlyHereForGallavich (orphan_account)



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst and Fluff, Angst with a Happy Ending, Cancer, Gallavich, Hurt Mickey, Ian x Mickey - Freeform, M/M, Sick Mickey, Tumour
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-04
Packaged: 2018-08-19 12:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8208265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/OnlyHereForGallavich
Summary: Ian was never the funny one in their relationship. But when Mickey gets diagnosed with a tumor in his lungs, he fights to make the other boy happy. ~Don't worry, I don't do sad endings~





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hiii guys! Hope you like this one :) And don't worry, I'm a slut for happy endings so xxx

The night they get the diagnosis, after weeks of Ian begging Mickey to see the doctor, silence fills the Gallagher-Milkovich household. Yet, though no words are spoken, they can hear the doctor’s voice echo in their ears. Tumour in your left lung. 30% chance of survival. “Not a bad chance,” The doctor had said, but it was clear to Ian that Mickey took it as a death sentence. He shook off the thought. He watched as Mickey collected all his cigarettes in the house, all the weed, anything smoke-able. He remained quiet as Mickey put them all in a bag, dumped it on the street, and set it all on fire. Wordlessly, Ian added everything he had to the pile. The boys felt their world burning as the pile did. Ian slipped his hand into Mickey’s. Uncharacteristically, he didn’t pull away. Mickey was hurting. Ian knew that. “Well, at least we finally fuckin’ quit, right Mick?” He said with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. Mickey chuckled lightly and squeezed Ian’s hand tighter. The hand that kept shaking as they went inside, as Ian fell asleep, as he tried not to make any noise as he cried. 

//

Mickey got weaker with all the radiotherapy they put him through in case they could help him without surgery. His hair hadn’t started falling out, but Ian knew Mickey was dreading that ever happening. He looked at Ian with apprehension sometimes, like he couldn’t quite gauge why he still wanted him. Ian wanted to make a list, wanted to write all the reasons he loved Mickey in the sky. But Mickey wasn’t one for big romantic gestures, so Ian just held him close at night, hoped he would understand. A month into therapy, Mickey jerked awake at night and rushed to the bathroom, puking his guts out with dark clumps of blood. Ian’s heart was in his throat, all sleepiness evaporated from his eyes as he ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair, damp with sweat. When he was done, he pulled the Milkovich boy back against him. He rested his back against the hardness of the tub and rested Mickey’s body against his. “You don’t have to do this, Gallagher.” Mickey whispered quietly. Ian knew he wasn’t talking about that moment; he was talking about all that had happened, all that was yet to come. He ignored that knowledge, the way he ignored the possibility of Mickey’s death. Instead, he diverted him with funny things, the way he had come to do though Mickey had always been the joker between them. “Trust me, I’ve slept in worse places than this.” He dived into a story about a morning he and Lip had passed out on the floor of the Alibi. Mickey laughed weakly and fell asleep with his head tucked into the crook of Ian’s neck. Ian hoped Mickey can’t feel his tears in his already damp hair. 

//

The night Ian wakes up to Mickey shuddering in their bed may be the scariest of his life. When he saw the other boy as he clutched his chest with agony and gasped for breath, choking on the air around him. As he forced himself to remain calm as he clutched the phone on his bedside and called 911 (“Please hurry the fuck up, my husband- he can’t breathe.”). As he cradled Mickey’s body and said, “Breathe, please Mickey, just breathe with me.” As Mickey later woke up at the hospital and the boys got the news that Mickey wouldn’t be leaving the hospital for a while. “Fucker, a month of free food and the comfy-ass bed,” Ian grins even as his heart feels like someone’s scooped out its centre. Mickey doesn’t laugh this time. He can’t. But he smiles. Ian’s jokes aren’t funny. But Mickey’ll always smile. 

//

Ian lived at the hospital. Others came to visit; Yev, who cried the first time he saw his Dad motionless, surrounded by beeping machines, Svetlana who made a snarky comment with no real attitude, Mandy, who excused herself every time she had to cry, all the Gallaghers. Fiona adopted the role of Mother Hen in the hospital too, bringing Mickey quilts and bad action movies. One day, Mickey didn’t open his eyes when the nurse comes in with his food. She tried shaking him awake, but he didn’t respond. They called for doctors, and suddenly the room filled with a flurry of activity; doctors running in, tossing around medical words Ian couldn’t understand. Fear filled him, cold and metallic. A few minutes later, a chilling, steady beep filled the room that Ian knew to associate with death. His legs gave in and he collapsed onto the floor, and nurses surrounded asking if he was okay. I’m okay; he wanted to respond, as okay as you can be when the love of your life is dying before your eyes. They resuscitated Mickey, it wasn’t over the way Ian had feared. “Guess I’m not the only heart stopping thing in your life, anymore, asshole,” He winked at Mickey later, to the shock of the nurses around him. Mickey couldn’t move his mouth around the tube inserted through it, but his beautiful blue eyes laughed. Ian grasped at it, at that small sign of life. But for a few moments, Ian had lived in a world without Mickey Milkovich. It wasn’t one he ever intended on visiting again. It made him fight harder, his will stronger.

//

The next day, they were informed that Mickey had been moved up the transplant list. A week later, Mickey was wheeled into surgery. Ian grasped his hand tightly, “I love you. I’ll love you forever. You’re gonna be fine, you hear me? You’re gonna come back here, okay? You owe me the rest of our lives together. I’ll see you soon, asshole.” He kissed every part of Mickey he could reach, whispering broken I love you’s with every breath. Mickey didn’t speak, but his hand tightened around Ian’s fingers. “Don’t scare off your doctors, okay?” Mickey’s mouth only just curved upwards. Ian laughed, he laughed even as tears ran down his cheeks. But it was okay, because Mickey couldn’t see him anymore. 

//

It was unreal. Unreal when doctors came out to tell him Mickey was fine, when Mickey opened his eyes again after the surgery. When the Gallagher-Milkovich’s came home to Yev running up to hug Mickey’s leg and all the Gallaghers loudly cheered in typical fashion. When the first night back, the boys slept in the bed that still smelt of them after months of the clinical hospital. Ian didn’t have to be strong anymore, so he crumpled against Mickey and sobbed out months of fear and worry. “Shit, Gallagher, figured you would be happy about this,” Mickey quipped, and the two boys laughed and cried, cried and laughed. There was no sweeter music to Ian’s ears, than the sound of the love of his life making a bad joke.


End file.
